Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
18
MADDOX
Fuck. I really screwed this up.
I always knew Aces had a slimy side. Any kind of place like this would. Hell, it started off as an illegal speakeasy during Prohibition. They’ve always skirted outside the limits of the law.
Honestly, I never thought much of it. I once took a waitress to the private areas, and we both had a pretty good time. I’m not exactly proud of it, and I never did it again, but it wasn’t an inherently evil thing to do. Nowadays, I come to Aces to have a good drink, to meet people. Women, mostly. Do I look the other way when someone takes a server behind one of the velvet curtains? Yeah. I also buy produce that was likely pumped full of pesticides and picked by underpaid workers.
There is no way to be morally pure in this complex world.
I like this club. I love the mystery, the meticulously detailed theming that Rouge put into it after she took over. And it’s the best damn gin and tonic I’ve ever had. I’ve tried to replicate it at home, but it’s impossible. I swear to God, they must pick and ferment the elderflowers themselves. No one knows which brands of liquor they use, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make it all in-house.
I’ve never brought a woman here before. All the women I’ve socialized with here have been members in their own right. They all know what goes on behind closed doors here, so I’ve never had to rationalize it for them in real time.
But if any of those women stormed out for any reason, I’d let them go. If they can’t handle the dark side of the world, they certainly won’t last with me.
I guess the same is true about Alissa.
Except… Shit. Her phone is dead. And I don’t think she closed her tab at the bar, so she doesn’t have a credit card.
Maybe she has other credit cards. Or cash in her purse.
But I don’t know that for sure.
She may never want to see me again, but damn it, I promised her a ride home. And for all his faults, Maddox Hathaway follows up on his promises.
I stand and walk across the club, swinging open the Green Door to the mirrored staircase. I ascend and knock three times.
Chet opens it, his eyes wide. “I thought I might be seeing you soon, Mr. Hathaway.”
I swallow. “Did Alissa come through here?”
He nods slowly. “Yes. Miss Wonder just passed through. You two didn’t have a spat, did you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, we did.”
Chet’s grin has been pasted on his face since he saw me, but the edges of it waver slightly—maybe his version of a frown.
He lifts his eyebrows. “In a false quarrel there is no true valor.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He gazes toward the door. “I don’t think Miss Wonder will have gone far. You should go after her.”
“Right. Thanks, Chet.”
I open the door, look out the alleyway. The coast is clear, but a bone-chilling shriek pierces the air.
“Let go of me!”
Alissa’s voice.
Fuck.
Every muscle in my body coils like a loaded spring. I bolt toward her voice, my pulse hammering in my ears. I round the corner and skid to a stop in the alley behind the building.
Alissa.
She’s trapped in a circle of three men, their matching leather jackets stamped with crude nicknames. Their stances are relaxed, too confident, like they’ve already decided how this ends.
They have no idea what’s coming. The man holding her arm in his grip has the word “Mouse” written on the back of his jacket. To his right is a guy marked “Dodo,” and to his left is “Eaglet.”
What the hell? Were all the good nicknames taken?
But I don’t have time to think about that. I race in front of Alissa and swing my fist down on Mouse’s arm, forcing him to let go. “Leave her alone, asshole.”
Mouse cocks his head, narrowing his eyes. “Nice hat.”
“Fuck off,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You’re dead,” Mouse growls.
Dodo and Eaglet seize my arms, but I jam my foot into Dodo’s crotch. A strangled scream rips from his throat as he doubles over. I wrench my arm free from Eaglet’s grasp and then grab his wrist, twisting it behind him and then kneeing him in his chest.
Mouse moves in like a shadow, his arms locking around me in a crushing bear hug. I slam my elbow into his side—once, twice, three times—but he doesn’t budge. His grip tightens, a vise squeezing the breath from my lungs. Desperation fuels me. I plant my feet against the brick wall of the building, every muscle coiling as I shove off with everything I have. The momentum sends us lurching backward. Mouse falls on his ass.
I scramble off him, turn around, and punch him.